Chapter Two- Buddha #2
My eyes clouded with tears behind the sunglasses I wore.
This was exactly why I felt everything was my fault.
My father wasn’t supposed to get shot; it was my first time taking over from Tomasso, and I couldn’t even get that right.
Countless times my father had met with clients, and never once was I in any danger.
Never once did anything like this happen.
So yeah, I felt like this shit was all on me.
My mother spoke to Dior, and she answered.
Then they both looked toward where I was seated in Dior’s Mercedes.
I could see the sadness all the way over here on my mother’s face.
Turning her attention back on Tomasso, they began making their way inside.
My father was strong enough to walk on his own, but one of the hired security guards still walked directly behind him.
Useless was an understatement for the way I felt. I removed the sling that supported my arm and placed it on the seat. A security guard stood at the side of my door, waiting for me to make my way inside. I sighed heavily, feeling like the weight of the world was on my shoulders.
So how did Lorenzo meet his fate? Nobody exactly knows what happened, but Snow and I had an idea.
How did Lorenzo’s dead body end up in Dior’s trunk along with my dog?
Well, when the video footage from that day was reviewed, we realized there was an delivery.
Sofia shopped online as if her life depended on it, like that shit was therapeutic to her.
Who would think anything about an delivery driver doing his job?
Everyone was preoccupied, and by everyone I meant Dior, my mother, and my sister.
They were all inside yapping their asses off, unaware that the delivery driver wasn’t an actual delivery driver.
Oh, that mothafucka showed up dressed and driving what he was supposed to.
However, he wasn’t an worker. Even though we did what we did for a living, we didn’t have much hired security at our gate.
There was just one guard working that particular day.
Viewing the footage, we saw him take Lorenzo’s body out the back of his van, disarm Dior’s Porsche, unlock her trunk, and place Lorenzo’s body inside. Do you know how brave of a mothafucka you had to be to drop a mothafucking dead body in broad daylight in the back of someone else’s trunk?
The delivery truck then drove to Sofia’s home and delivered her actual package. This was done so nothing seemed off. We obtained the security footage from my home and Sofia's home. The hardest thing I had to watch was that mothafucka unlock my front door and walk out with my dead dog in his arms.
Taking Lotus, he then drove back to Dior’s Porsche and placed my dog in the trunk next to Lorenzo’s.
That shit may have seemed as if it had taken maybe half an hour or so.
But, na, that shit took under ten minutes.
Whoever did that was in and out of the compound quick as hell.
One thing stood out: the person who did this was well informed.
That fake delivery driver knew exactly that the men of the house wouldn’t be there.
He knew there wasn’t much security at the front gate.
He knew that Dior would not be at home, as was Sofia.
He knew way too much that no ordinary stranger could possibly know.
Which meant that this was an inside job.
One, Lorenzo was no mothafucking punk; he was lured by someone he trusted and then killed.
Two, Snow and I figured it was someone who knew us, someone close to us, that ratted us out to Francesco and Luca.
Then, Edwardo was also tied into all of this.
I distinctly remembered, as I lay on that ground after being shot, that Francesco said they needed to meet up with Edwardo.
I smiled like a maniac to myself, because I always knew the time would come when I would be looking down at Edwardo’s dead body, and that I would be responsible for taking him out.
I was about to kill every-fucking-body!
I watched as Snow took his time coming out of the memorial, down the stairs, and toward the Mercedes I was seated in.
He walked up to my back window and lightly tapped on it.
I cracked the door open, and he pulled on it and sat down inside next to me.
We both just sat there, in the quiet of the car, for about five minutes, listening to each other breathe.
“You coming inside?” Snow asked eventually. I didn’t even bother looking at him; I just kept my head staring straight ahead.
“Yeah,” I replied, adjusting my sunglasses on my face. “I think Catalina was a part of this,” I said to him, I could feel Snow’s eyes on me.
“What? How the fuck you figure that? You sure?”
“How can I be sure of any fucking thing anymore?” I turned to look at him. “Besides, she knew about the black diamonds deal when I never told her ass. She claimed she hadn’t been in contact with Francesco for months, yet she knew about the details.”
“Fuckkk,” Snow muttered, sighing heavily.
“I still can’t get in touch with Angel. I don’t know what the fuck’s going on with her.
If I could just get to talk to her, she could probably shed some light on Francesco’s and Luca’s whereabouts.
” I rubbed the overgrown hair on my chin as I thought long and hard.
“Something tells me Catalina never left for Italy. I need to go back to the hotel and talk to reception. Then, I’m gonna pay Edwardo a fucking visit.
I’m strong enough now.” As much as I wanted to run up on that fool when I left the hospital.
I was of no use to anybody with a fucked up shoulder and a hole in my calf.
I had to wait until I was strong enough.
I was 75% better, and that was more than 50%, so that was fucking good enough for me.
It was now go time. It was time to let these mothafuckas feel it. They wanted to fuck me…cool. I was about to make everybody wish they were never fucking born.
“Do you even hear yourself? The fuck you think you are nigga? Mothafucking Rambo, you gotta chill until we’re better, and then we’ll find them…together.”
“Fuck that Snow!” I snatched my sunglasses off my face because I wasn’t about to go out like a fucking punk.
“They killed my fucking dog. Those mothafuckas were in my fucking home and stabbed my dog in her chest. They killed fucking Lorenzo, Snow. We grew up under that man. And you talking bout some chill,” I made a disgusted face because my brother was acting as if he didn’t know; the word chill was never in my mothafucking dictionary.
“I’m about to pierce a proiettile (bullet) in everybody’s fucking skull,” I said my word, put my sunglasses back on my face, opened the door, and got out of the car.
The security stepped aside and let me walk past him.
Snow opened his side of the door and climbed out.
Walking up to me, Snow placed a hand on my shoulder.